


Auld Lang Syne

by lovetincture



Category: Loveless
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:34:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28478505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovetincture/pseuds/lovetincture
Summary: There's more than one way to ring in the new year.
Relationships: Agatsuma Soubi/Aoyagi Ritsuka
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Auld Lang Syne

When they do it this time, on this day, there’s absolutely nothing wrong. There have been hard days, days when one or both of them shuts down, raises their voice, disappears for days on end. There will be again. But this time—this day—

It’s New Year’s Eve. People have been lighting off fireworks since before the sun went down, a landscape of pops and crackles that occasionally set off car alarms in the distance. As the sun sets below the horizon, the fireworks increase in frequency until now, fifteen minutes until midnight, when the blasts are coming steadily.

“We should go outside,” Ritsuka says. “We’re going to miss it.”

He rises onto his knees, bare legs skinny and pale in the darkness. He’s not surprised by a warm hand on his wrist spinning him around and pulling him back down. He lets himself be pulled, an exasperated smile on his face.

“Soubi,” he drags the name out, sweet like taffy.

“Hm.” Soubi pulls him down, tugging him by the ends of his hair—longer now, just skimming the edges of his collarbone. He pulls until they’re sharing each other’s air, chest to chest and mouth to mouth. Soubi brushes a kiss across his lips, soft and lingering. He does it again, licking into a mouth that parts easily, a kiss that turns slick and wanting. Ritsuka clutches his shoulders and pulls away just far enough to mumble into Soubi’s mouth.

“C’mon, we’re going to miss it.”

Soubi chases his lips, and Ritsuka can’t resist, sinking back into a kiss that turns into another and another.

“I’m not stopping you,” Soubi says, nuzzling at the soft skin of Ritsuka’s throat before fastening his mouth there and sucking hard.

Ritsuka’s head lips back, and he groans. He’s hard again already, heat low coiling in his belly.

“You’re a goddamn menace,” he says, but he doesn’t let go of Soubi’s shoulders.

Soubi chuckles until Ritsuka slides a hand up to scritch blunt nails through his scalp in a way that makes him shiver. He does it again and then again, until he can feel Soubi hard and bucking up against him. It fills him with a thrill of possessive delight that he can do this, give and take pleasure. It hadn’t been an easy road to get here. It was a lesson hard-won, on both their parts.

They’re still naked. He’s still wet and open from the last time they did this, a little tender and sore, and it’s nothing to reach down to where Soubi is hard between them, to angle his cock so he can sink down onto him with a soft huff.

Soubi groans, tipping his head forward to rest against Ritsuka’s chest. He’s grown in the intervening years. He wasn’t always, but now he’s big enough to push Soubi down with a hand, to watch as his blond hair spills like moonlight across the pillow.

“Beautiful,” Soubi says. “You’re so—”

Ritsuka lifts up and bucks down hard, just to see Soubi stutter over the words, to see his head thump back against the mattress. He does it again to set his own toes curling against the sheets, to start that shiver at the base of his spine when he hits just _there._

There’s an ache to it. They’ve done this too many times today already, but it’s a holiday, after all. It’s a sweet ache. He finds a fluid rhythm, something unhurried and oceanic, riding slow as he watches the color from the fireworks outside burst across Soubi’s face.

Ritsuka reaches up—reaches for Soubi’s hands, and they’re right there waiting, just like they always are. He threads their fingers together and braces himself on the place where their hands are connected. He’s not going to last long this time, but it doesn’t matter. There’s always tomorrow and then tomorrow, an endless string of tomorrows stretching out like pearls. There was a time when he didn’t believe in this.

He leans forward to lick Soubi’s ear, biting his earlobe softly and enjoying the jolting thrust that follows.

“Happy new year,” Ritsuka whispers.

From where he’s sitting, he thinks it just might be.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year to you and your loved ones. I hope it's sweet and full of good things.


End file.
